Downsizing

The home which my husband Brian and I shared for 25 years is not a suitable place for me to spend the rest of my life. A wooden villa built before 1870, with gardens and a pool, it is too big and expensive for me to maintain on my own. Now, almost a year since Brian died, it is time for a change. I will be very sad to leave this property but hope it can be sold to a young family who will love it as much as we did.

The prospect of moving with my two cats to a smaller, warmer, more modern house closer to the village is both exciting and daunting. Inevitably it means giving up many possessions. I don’t like the term “decluttering” because it could imply that these surplus goods are junk, which most of them are not, even if they may be too old-fashioned to have any monetary value.

William Morris said Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful. More recently, in Marie Kondo’s popular system, the key question to ask when deciding whether to keep an object is “Does it spark joy?”

With the starkly named method of Swedish Death Cleaning, older people are advised to reduce their possessions to the essentials, so as to save trouble for their survivors. That sounds very noble. But although I do try to keep my things in good order and take unwanted ones to charity shops, I am reluctant to give up those non-essentials that will continue to “spark joy” for however long I have left to live.

There are many items that I want to keep for sentimental reasons. The wooden chest from a country fair with the initials B and J on top. The picture we bought the first time we went to a London exhibition. Brian’s vast library of books on diverse subjects, and copies of all his academic publications. The jewellery that I seldom wear but reminds me of our holidays together. The footstools and cushions that my mother embroidered with cats and flowers. And the many volumes of photos …

A sweet little flower self-sown in a crack in our garden path.

Overdose: A novel

Along with the campaign that is currently running to promote my fiction catalogue, I’ll be posting images of some individual titles in the coming weeks.

Overdose was the first novel I wrote, so long ago that it now counts as historical fiction. It’s a tragicomic story which gives an authentic picture of life in a psychiatric hospital in the late 1970s. Much has changed since then and some modern readers may find the book rather shocking.

Summer in London

It seems like only yesterday that my husband Brian died, but it’s actually nine months ago. While not feeling at all like a “Merry Widow” I’m aiming to enjoy life as best I can, and so decided to spend another holiday in London this year. I’ve visited the UK on my own many times before, but it’s different now without the long phone calls every night to Brian back home in Auckland, and revisiting all the places we used to go together brings back bittersweet memories. In other ways it’s the same, and lovely to be back in my home country during the hot dry summer. Wimbledon, strawberries, and with my invaluable Britrail pass which allows unlimited train travel I’ve been overwhelmed with hospitality from family and friends living in (listed alphabetically) Berkshire, Dorset, Hampshire, Kent, Merseyside, Northamptonshire, Oxfordshire, Sussex both East and West, Wiltshire and Yorkshire as well as Greater London. Here are a few photos.

Near Bridport, Dorset
In Hyde Park
York Gate Gardens
“Bob” in the River Washburn
Bognor Regis beachfront

Returning home without Brian to welcome me is the hardest thing, but I look forward to retrieving Magic and Leo from the boarding Cattery, and hope they will forgive me for confining them there.

Magic and Leo

Raymond, or Life and Death

Over the years I’ve read many books and watched many videos about mediumship, near death experiences and the like, but never quite let go of the scepticism instilled by my conventional upbringing and scientific education. I recently asked Claude AI to recommend some serious books on the subject, and one of those on the list turned out to be among the most remarkable I have ever read. Raymond, or Life and Death by Sir Oliver Lodge was published in 1916 and is a long book in three parts: a memoir about World War One, an extensive investigation of mediumship, and a discussion about what might be called consciousness studies. The author was an Englishman, a brilliant physicist and electrical engineer whose research into electromagnetic radiation contributed to the development of radio. He and his wife lived in the Birmingham suburb of Edgbaston, incidentally the place where I was born. They had twelve children and the youngest, Raymond, is the subject of the book.

Raymond, like his father and brothers, was a highly intelligent man with a passion for engineering. He was also by all accounts a very pleasant and thoughtful person whom everybody liked. When war broke out he volunteered to serve as an officer in the British Army and after a short training period was deployed to a secret location on the Western Front. His duties involved the design and construction of trenches and dugouts, and he was also trained to operate machine guns. His letters home are reproduced in full and though perhaps they put a positive slant on things he writes that he is happy and cheerful and even enjoying parts of the experience, despite the deaths and mental breakdowns of some of his comrades. I found it interesting and moving to read this detailed account of what life was like for these young men on the front line. After a few months he was struck by a German shell and died an hour or so later. He was 26 years old. Numerous tributes from his relatives, colleagues and friends are reproduced in the book. 

Oliver Lodge had already been involved in the Spiritualist movement, along with other eminent men of his time such as Arthur Conan Doyle. Very soon after learning of Raymond’s death, Lodge and his wife scheduled sittings with several different mediums, taking elaborate precautions to safeguard their anonymity. The early communications reported that Raymond had felt confused at first but was now happy in the afterlife, surrounded by many friends, and keen to come through to bring comfort to bereaved relatives on earth. General information of this kind might have been either genuine or fabricated, and in later sittings Lodge sought for more specific evidence. The first of many examples came from a detailed description of a photo of Raymond and his comrades, taken shortly before Raymond died. Lodge did not know about this photo until he was able to obtain a copy later, which rules out telepathy as the explanation. Many other sittings with various mediums provided convincing evidence of Raymond’s survival. Special techniques such as automatic writing and table tilting were sometimes used, and if Lodge had lived 100 years later he would no doubt have taken part in the current research which is using modern technology including AI.

The last part of the book called “Life and Death” draws on philosophy, biology, physics and the author’s own theories. I didn’t understand it all, but had the impression that our understanding of consciousness, mind-body-spirit connections and an afterlife has not changed all that much today. Lodge stresses the importance of keeping an open mind, being willing to revise firmly held beliefs and to admit the limitations of current scientific knowledge.